Sometimes All Your Christmases Come At Once
by Miranda179
Summary: Thomas makes friends with another wounded soldier. A seasonal story set in wartime Downton Abbey convalescent home. Then someone is murdered at the Abbey and Thomas is thrown into the middle of it all... **Season 2 Spoilers**
1. Chapter 1

Sometimes, All Your Christmases Come At Once

"Could you bandage Lieutenant Fox's arm and stomach wounds please, Thom- I mean, Sergeant Barrow?"

"Yes Lady Syb- I mean Nurse Crawley." Thomas gave his usual sneer at her slip up, adding sarcasm for good measure.

She turned away. Snooty cow, he thought, not seeing her embarrassment. As the youngest daughter of Lord Grantham, she still thought she outranked an ex-footman, even though he now managed Downton Abbey convalescent home for officers.

Lieutenant Fox was sitting up in the bed by the window. He had dark gold, wavy hair and a tentative smile.

"Right sir," said Thomas briskly, now accustomed to bandaging men of all shapes and sizes. "Let's do your arm first shall we?"

He rolled up the pyjama sleeve to reveal a freckled, perfect limb spoilt by the deep gash in the forearm.

The Lieutenant winced as Thomas carefully picked off the old bandage.

"Did they cut something out of this, sir?"

"Yes- ouch! A pen knife."

"A what?" Thomas paused, trying not to smile.

"Yes. The explosion threw me against a dead body: for some reason he was holding a pen knife."

"Strange. Maybe he'd lost his bayonet." Thomas smirked to himself but was surprised when Fox chuckled.

"The absurdities of war."

He was friendly. Normally Thomas thought of friendliness as weak but it didn't seem so with this man, it was more like confidence.

They sat in silence for a while, Thomas busily re-bandaging the arm.

"Right, sir. I was told you have a stomach wound too?"

"Yes." He struggled to take off his pyjama top with one hand, so Thomas assisted, used to dressing and undressing Lord Grantham. And the Duke of Crowborough that summer. Now why had he thought of him after all this time?

Fox sat there with the old, blood stained bandage round his stomach, waiting patiently, his body thin and colourless after the weeks in bed. Thomas gazed at him for a minute, then collected himself and looked round the room. All the other patients were either asleep or being attended to by nurses, so hadn't noticed. He must pull himself together.

"Right, let's get this off then." Thomas picked at the end of the old bandage roughly.

"Steady on old chap," Fox twitched under his assault.

"Sorry." He did it more gently, glancing at his victim's face to judge if he was hurting him. It was a shock to look into the most unusual eyes he'd ever seen: a deep blue-green colour, like jade. Oh, he could fall into those eyes.

"You don't want to rip my skin off at the same time I hope."

Thomas chuckled as he continued the un-bandaging. Fox gasped with the shock of air hitting his wound after it had been protected for so long.

"It's alright. Let's just leave it awhile to breathe." Thomas pulled the pyjama jacket round the thin, freckled shoulders and allowed himself to pat one of them reassuringly. "I'll come back in an hour to re-do it."

"Oh." That was definitely a look of disappointment on the Lieutenant's face, but Thomas strode away. He was probably just bored and wanted someone to talk to, it didn't mean anything.

x-x-x-x

He returned to see a nurse about to re-bandage Fox's wound and his heart sank as they were chatting away in a friendly manner. He was just about to go to another task, when Nurse Crawley bustled up to the bed.

"I'm sorry, nurse, this will have to wait. We need your help with a new patient."

Thomas stepped forward.

"Ah, Sergeant Barrow, could you take over here?"

Without a backward glance, Sybil Crawley drew the other nurse with her towards the hall.

"Nice to know your place around here," said Thomas as he sat down on the bed. "Now. Where were we?"

He held the end of the bandage against Fox's back and the soldier flinched.

"Cold hands!"

"Sorry." Thomas breathed on his hands to warm them and began winding the bandage round carefully. Fox really needed feeding up. "Are you cold? You're shivering."

"No, no, I'm fine. Hold on." He turned and got a pillow to put on his lap. "There, that'll make us more comfortable. You can put your elbow on it while you're doing that."

"Right-o." Thomas was a bit confused by this but he'd seen far too many strange things during the war to worry.

Fox watched him as he worked. At first, he had thought the tall, dark, handsome Sergeant Barrow's eyes were cold but it hadn't taken long to notice they weren't. Just guarded. Wary. His defined cheekbones draw attention to lips fuller than expected, suggesting there was more to this man than indifferent soldier.

"It's a lovely day, the first for ages. I wish I could go out for a walk."

"Why can't you?"

"Nurse Crawley said I wasn't ready yet."

Bloody Nurse Crawley, thought Thomas. Thinks she's the manager instead of me.

"You are ready. A turn around the grounds won't do you no harm."

"I won't be allowed out on my own. Come with me?"

Thomas paused in his bandaging.

"Alright then. When?"

"When she's not looking." Fox grinned wickedly. Thomas guessed he did that a lot when he wasn't wounded, as it suited him.

x-x-x-x

So a couple of hours later, Thomas brought an overcoat, helped Fox put it on over his pyjamas and they slipped out of the front door into the sunlight.

"Shall we be even more naughty and go away from the house?" suggested the blond Lieutenant. "Somewhere less boring."

"Alright. There's a lake in the woods, it's very picturesque."

They set off in that direction. Every minute Thomas expected a female voice to call him back: don't abscond with the foxy Lieutenant! He suppressed a laugh.

Approaching the lake slowly due to Fox's difficulty walking, the water glittered in the sunlight, rainbow colours rippling hypnotically, never the same twice.

"Oh, you're right. This is beautiful."

Thomas grinned at his open mouthed surprise.

"Just the place to bring my sweetheart."

Everything fell into place in Thomas's mind and he caught his breath.

"So. You wanted to find somewhere to propose to your sweetheart. This is a good place, you could have a picnic with her and there are rowing boats, you could row to the island, and-"

"Shush! What are you talking about?"

"I- I thought you meant, I-" He swallowed.

"I've never had a sweetheart, have you?" Fox's teal eyes couldn't have looked more innocent.

"No- yes- well, I could have but-"

"Spit it out, man. Have you or haven't you?"

"Well, they killed themself before anything happened." He wanted to talk about Edward; he hadn't talked to anyone about him. Not even Miss O'Brien, his closest confidante. But she was hardly a friend.

"Bloody hell. Why?"

"Depression, I reckon."

"That's awful. You poor chap." Fox patted his arm. "What was her name?"

Thomas paused.

"Edward," he blurted. "Damn!"

"So, your nearly sweetheart was a man." Fox's expression was unreadable.

"Yes. I'm not saying anymore, I shouldn't have said that, I-"

"I knew it! I knew I wasn't the only one! Sorry." He grinned. "But I've never liked women."

"What were you talking about sweethearts for then?"

"I wanted to know if you had one, you idiot."

"Oh." Thomas thought of poor blinded Edward, lying there lifeless, blood drenching his sheets, the floor and the bed and turned away trying not to cry.

"What happened?" asked Fox, hobbling round to look at him.

So Thomas hesitantly told the story, stopping every few minutes to collect himself. When he worked at the local hospital, he and Edward had begun forming some sort of bond, there hadn't even been time to find out what sort. Then Dr Clarkson had insisted Edward leave and go to a distant specialist institution for blinded servicemen. Losing his sight, his position in his family and the budding relationship with Thomas had pushed him into despair and he'd finally admitted defeat by slashing his wrists in the night.

"That's bloody terrible. Come here." Fox put his arms round him and hugged him. "Oh, ouch. Bloody wounds."

Thomas was half laughing, half crying but a gradual sense of calm took over. He put his head on Fox's shoulder, breathing out in relief.

"There, there. Come on, let's walk round." He put his hand through Thomas's arm and set off on the lake path. "I know you're Thomas. My name's Guy. As in: 'penny for the.' "

Thomas laughed.

"That's better."

x-x-x-x

That day, and all the other days they went to the lake, they talked. Guy's family lived nearby; he was the youngest son of a self-made man and they owned a large farmhouse and stables.

"No one minds what I do; I usually look after the horses outside. I don't care for fancy dinners and coming out balls. And I need to get healthy again; I'm a shadow of my former self."

"You don't look like a shadow to me."

They exchanged glances.

x-x-x-x

One day they couldn't get out for their walk before late afternoon. They didn't have a set time for walking- to avoid suspicion and questions- but just went when they could.

The sun was setting like a new penny, orange and glowing as it sank over the lake. Pink clouds surrounded it like gossamer, lighting the sky with streaks of fire.

"Red sky at night, shepherd's delight," said Guy.

"You what?"

"It means we'll have good weather tomorrow."

"Whatever you say."

"It's beautiful anyway, despite your sneering."

He thumped him on the arm, but it turned into a caress, then a stroke of his cheek and Thomas rubbed his face on Guy's hand like a cat. Guy stepped forward and kissed him, gently, tentatively.

Immediately, there was a shout, like someone apprehending a robber.

"Christ, it's the 'no kissing' police," muttered Thomas, hurrying his collaborator into the woods as they tried not to giggle.

An argument broke out further round the lake, the angry voices carrying clearly through the still air.

In the leafy hideaway, however, they weren't interested in what was happening outside. The heavy army jacket and overcoat were far too inconvenient, so they soon came off. Guy had filled out so much after the rest, home cooked food and fresh air of the last few months, his body now had the defined muscle Thomas assumed it had normally. Someone working on a farm would need muscle, wouldn't they? Guy appreciated Thomas's hard, broad body with tufts of black chest hair, his sensuous lips which were now pressed to Guy's mouth, his neck, all over. He was still injured though, so Thomas was gentle but after so long wanting each other, passion sparked between them.

Time flew by. The last thought Thomas had before they cuddled up and went to sleep was that he'd kissed and been kissed, touched, stroked more in those few hours than in the rest of his twenty eight years put together.

x-x-x-x

He awoke in the dark, and Guy's body felt cold. A sudden fear gripped his heart and he shook his lover's arm. Fortunately he stirred and mumbled something so Thomas breathed again. He didn't want another dead sweetheart.

"Shit!" He realised how late it was and hustled Guy into his pyjama top and overcoat, then put on his army jacket.

"Come on, we've got to get back." He helped him walk to the Abbey, the path appearing sinister at this time of night. Animals' eyes glittered in the undergrowth, a fox yelped and Thomas shivered.

"Where have you been?" demanded the venerable Dr Clarkson in the doorway, his normally red face even more flushed.

"We forgot the time," mumbled Thomas.

"Lieutenant Fox is on the way to hypothermia! Get him to his bed at once!" The doctor's moustache bristled with anger.

Thomas wanted to argue- he'd never forgiven him for the Edward situation- but took the sensible route and did as he was told.

"Sorry," he whispered as he put Guy back to bed. "Think I've made you ill again."

"Don't be silly. That was the best afternoon of my life."

They grinned at each other.

"By the way, your hair's on end, you'd better sort it out."

Thomas quickly smoothed down the wiry black mop which took so much Brilliantine to control every morning.

"Really Sergeant Barrow. You should know better than to keep a patient out til all hours…" Nurse Crawley rambled on while the two culprits just gazed at each other, trying not to laugh.

"No more trips to the lake in the evening then," said Guy when she'd gone.

"Not in the evening, no." Thomas winked at him and said goodnight.

x-x-x-x

So they went to the lake in the mornings instead for the perfect passionate interludes to break up the daily routine. Luck seemed on their side as they were never apprehended or questioned: there was too much going on at the Abbey with the stream of convalescing soldiers.

But as autumn drew on, the evil day came, as it had to: Guy was well enough to go home.

"It's only up the road. You can visit," he assured Thomas.

"What'll your parents think? A servant coming to visit a gentleman?"

"You're hardly a servant. They'll just have to get used to it."

It all happened in a rush. Major and Mrs Fox came to fetch their son, all tailored clothes, expensive cologne and silk handkerchiefs. There wasn't time for any proper goodbyes between the blond Lieutenant and the dark haired Sergeant.

"New money," muttered one of the nurses to Thomas. "All airs and graces. Not proper aristocracy."

He moved away before he 'accidentally' trod on her toe.

x-x-x-x

So, life returned to normal. Thomas overseeing the Abbey, helping the wounded, fetching and carrying. The only good things were the letters. The Duke of Crowborough's letters had been too fancy, making allusions to things Thomas knew nothing of, but Guy's were straightforward, affectionate, about his family and seasonal duties on the farm. Such subjects were reassuring: Thomas hadn't really fitted in with his own family but always felt like an outsider.

A letter in early November letter was different, scrawled as if written in excitement.

_Dearest Thomas_

_My father wants a valet! I'll recommend you. Can you come and visit to meet him? Please, please do, we'd both get what we want if you worked here._

Being wanted. Addressed as 'dearest'. It was all foreign to him. As he stood smoking a cigarette near the outbuildings, a smile curled round his lips.

x-x-x-x

He went to Guy's farmhouse not hopeful, not believing it would all go right, it never did for him.

"Barrow? Come in man," barked Major Fox, standing in his morning room. He had Guy's golden hair fading into white.

"What's your experience as a valet?"

"Two years for Lord Grantham, sir."

"Why are you not his valet anymore?"

"He got a new one. Then the war came along and I volunteered for the medical corps."

"The medical corps? Why not the regular army? What sort of a man are you?"

"I wanted to help people." That wasn't the reason and Major Fox looked him straight in the eye, but Thomas's gaze didn't waver.

"Why do you want to leave your post at the convalescent home now?"

"The war's ended. I'm not needed there anymore." It was hard to remain civil under the volley of questions.

"Hm. I'll let you know in due course." He waved his hand dismissively so Thomas drew himself up to his full height and stalked out.

x-x-x-x

"Sorry about father," said Guy as he walked Thomas to the front gate. "His bark is far worse than his bite. Hope he didn't put you off."

"It'd take more than that to put me off. I've bandaged your wounds remember."

"Oh ha ha, very funny. I think he liked you. He likes people that aren't submissive."

As the day was cold there was no one around, so Guy gave him a quick kiss before he set off towards the road.

x-x-x-x

When Thomas returned home, he felt like visiting his old colleagues. He should speak to Miss O'Brien; he hadn't seen her for ages, so he slipped into the house silently. It was nice to see its unchanged familiarity: Mrs Patmore bustling round the kitchen making a Christmas cake; Mr Carson's deep tones echoing from the hall; Daisy flapping around like a loon.

"What do you want?" said Mrs Patmore as Thomas lurked in the doorway. "Hope it's not feeding, I haven't any spare."

"That's a nice welcome."

She tutted. "Go on then, have some of that soup, it needs using up."

"Oh, thanks!"

A bird warbled loudly outside the window and Thomas felt a sudden rush of elation. He grabbed Mrs Patmore's hand and her waist, and waltzed her round the kitchen very fast.

"Get away with ya!" she gasped, hitting his arm with a wooden spoon. "What's this in aid of?"

"Just- the weather's grand, the war's over, Christmas is on its way-"

She gave him a knowing look.

"Aha, someone's in love. Who's the lucky lass?"

"Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies."

"What's going on here?" boomed Mr Carson from the doorway.

"Oh! Nothing."

"Just a flying visit. Sorry, Mrs Patmore. Don't know what came over me."

"Oh! That's quite alright." She re-arranged her hair and cap coyly.

He patted the butler on the arm as he squeezed past him, wondering why he'd bothered visiting. O'Brien wasn't even there: anyway, what did he want to see her for, the sour faced cow? It wasn't like she'd rejoice in his happiness, was it?

"What's got into him?" asked Carson after he'd left.

"I think he's fallen in love." Mrs Patmore was a romantic at heart.

"God help the poor girl." The butler uncorked the wine disapprovingly.

x-x-x-x

Thomas couldn't believe the words in the letter. He read them over and over again in disbelief.

_Thomas Barrow esq._

_I would like to employ you as my valet, subject to good character references from your previous employer._

_Yours sincerely_

_Reginald Christmas-Fox, Major_

Employed as a valet in Guy's house? Christmas-Fox? He had to sit down abruptly on his bed in shock.

x-x-x-x

It was true though, because he was summoned to meet the Foxes again.

"You'll do, Barrow," said the Major, shaking his hand as Guy grinned in the background. "You can start as soon as I get your references." He swept out of the room, almost knocking Thomas over.

"Don't know what you're smirking at," he said to Guy. "Christmas-Fox?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I never use my full name. It's too silly."

"You don't say." He laughed. "How the hell did that come about?"

"My mother thought that when father made his money, we should have a double barrelled name. Christmas was her maiden name."

"Rich people, eh? You always do what you want."

"Yes, we do." Guy stepped up to the new valet and kissed him passionately, pushing the door shut with his foot.


	2. Chapter 2

**I decided to continue this story due to readers' interest and support. So here is chapter two, not as long as chapter one as I didn't know I was going to write it! I hope this story is going to get funnier.**

#####

The bell rang for the Major's dressing room.

"Oh! That made me jump." smiled Richard, the head footman, nudging Thomas. "Your turn."

"What does he want at this time of night?" grumbled the valet. He'd just taken a sip of tea, but put the cup down and trudged out of the room. This job wasn't as much fun as he'd hoped. He hadn't even seen Guy for the two weeks he'd been there and was starting to wonder if he'd been hoodwinked. Lured to work as a valet just for the Fox family's convenience.

He plodded up the plush red carpeted stairs to the Major's door but before he could knock, another door opened and Guy's head poked out. He beckoned.

"What? Your father's waiting."

"No, he isn't. I rang the bell." Guy smirked.

"Why?" Thomas hung back warily.

"Because, you idiot, I haven't seen you since you started here."

"So whose fault is that?"

"Aren't you coming in?" He pulled him into his bedroom. "Why are you frowning? Aren't you pleased to see me?"

Thomas avoided his eyes.

"Say something then."

"What d'you want me to say?"

They stared at each other, Guy frowning now.

"Because, I turn up here and you never even bother to say hello or even speak to me for the whole fortnight, just ignore me and I might as well not have come!" Thomas's outburst surprised even himself. Guy was bound to just send him away after that.

"I- I just wanted you to settle in. People would be suspicious if the minute you arrived I dragged you off on walks or wherever."

They stared at each other again.

"We- we can just be friends if you like." Guy bit his lip.

"Alright."

There was a knock on the door and Thomas jumped away, as he'd been leaning against it trying to look casual.

"Guy? Guy! You'll never guess, something so exciting!"

"My sister," mouthed Guy at Thomas, then raised his voice. "You can't come in, Millicent. I'm in my pyjamas."

"No you're not," mouthed Thomas at him, plucking at his dressing gown. "Liar." He wagged his finger reproachfully.

Guy smiled, then took it off to reveal that in fact, he was wearing pyjamas. Luxurious blue silk ones.

"Guy! Don't you want to know my news?" interrupted Millicent, tapping on the door.

"Go on."

"We've been invited to Downton Abbey for a Christmas party! By the Granthams! Real aristocracy! Perhaps I'll meet a rich earl…" She babbled on outside the door.

"Expensive. This would fetch a penny or two," muttered Thomas, stroking Guy's sleeve.

"Are you going to strip me naked for money?" He fluttered his eyelashes at his companion and they giggled quietly.

"What do you think then?" called Millicent.

"Fabulous! Marvellous! Wonderful!" enthused Guy falsely. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight then!"

"Night."

Guy lifted up his pyjama top. "Look." He revealed his neatly healed stomach scar.

Thomas pretended to be shocked. "Wondered what you were going to show me then." He ran his hand across the skin and gazed into Guy's teal eyes. "That does look good now."

"I hoped you'd stay with me tonight." His eyelashes were as golden as his hair.

"But the others'll know."

"They won't. They'll just think Father kept you busy til late arranging his clothes, then you were so tired you went off to bed. Of course, if you don't want to stay-"

"No! I do!"

They gazed at each other for a moment, then stepped forward and kissed.

"Stay with me," whispered Guy when they paused for breath.

"I thought you were using me."

"Never." He slipped Thomas's jacket off his shoulders.

"Been used before."

"I know. I promise I'll only use you if you want me too." He chuckled and they gazed into each other's eyes. "Come on." He led him to the bed, unbuttoning his shirt. "You always wear so many clothes."

"It's to stop people taking advantage of me."

"That happens a lot does it?"

"All the time."

At last they got into bed and cuddled up, sighing with relief and contentment.

"I'll have to turn the light off, otherwise my sister will be back to talk."

"Ooh, I'm scared of the dark," lied Thomas, chuckling.

"You don't feel scared to me." Guy kissed him.

######

Thomas awoke first as the morning light poked through the curtains, hitting his face. He looked round the plush room, all ruby velvet carpet and patterned wallpaper, so different to his own plain room and the one at Downton Abbey. He turned to the sleeping Guy, whose eyelashes swept his cheeks like an angel. Then smiled at his own thoughts. How soppy he was becoming, whatever happened to the hard shell he'd hidden behind all his life?

His lover's eye's opened.

"Morning."

They kissed and cuddled up some more.

"Something's always interested me."

"Eh?"

"How do footmen manage to carry trays so well without dropping everything?"

"I'll show you if you like." Thomas looked round for something to act as a tray and chose a large book. He got out of bed and picked it up, putting some smaller books on it.

"Like this." He strode around the room, making several abrupt turns without dropping anything, causing Guy to laugh til he ached. Especially as he had to keep quiet so as not to arouse suspicion.

"Is that exactly, precisely how you carry trays into dinner?"

"Pretty much." Thomas looked down at himself. "Except I usually have clothes on."

"Usually?"

"Well, there have been parties where I-"

"What?"

"Downton Abbey's a wild place you know-"

"Now I know you're lying." Guy threw his shirt at him, screwed up into a ball and he side stepped, still holding the 'tray'.

"You hinting I should get dressed?"

"No, no, please carry on. You're just so irritating."

"Ah, that's why you love me." Thomas sidled over and sat on the bed next to him.

"Yes." They kissed, but were interrupted by a rap at the door.

"Guy? Guy!" shouted a female voice. "Why are you still in bed? We have visitors and your father can't find his valet. He's in uproar."

"Shit!" mouthed Thomas in horror.

"Hold on, mother, I'll be ready soon!" shouted Guy.

"I need to get to your father and help him." The valet put his clothes on.

"You can certainly get dressed quickly."

"Had to. Sometimes when I went out-"

His companion raised an eyebrow.

"When I- er- um- anyway." He blushed and continued in silence.

"And another thing," continued Guy's mother outside the door. "I must talk to you about the Grantham's invitation. May I come in?" She tried the door handle.

"Just a minute." Guy leapt out of bed, grabbed his gown and pushed Thomas into his dressing room, whispering: "Wait there; I'll get rid of her."

He went to let his mother in.

"What's this about the Granthams?"

"As you know, they are genuine aristocracy-" Lady Fox, a voluptuous woman dressed in extremely fussy clothes, began a long tirade about the correct things to do when invited to an upper-class party.

"Let us look out of the window," said Guy, leading her to it. "In what direction is Downton Abbey from here?" He made sure she was looking at the scenery, hoping Thomas would get the hint.

The valet did indeed take the opportunity. He crept out of the dressing room, to the bedroom door, then at last he was through it. Now to face Major Fox.

#####

"Ah, there you are Barrow!" boomed the Major as Thomas opened the door to his room. "Where the devil have you been?" He was half dressed and everything was in a muddle, so Thomas hurried to the rescue.

"Sorry sir. I overslept."

"What sort of a man are you to be so late?"

"A very tired one, sir." He yawned, realising how little sleep he'd got last night.

The Major relented.

"Well. It is hard starting a new job. Don't do it again."

Thomas smiled to himself, thinking he couldn't promise that.

#####

Meanwhile, Guy was not listening to his mother as she droned on. He couldn't help smiling at being reunited with Thomas.

"So can you do that?" interrupted Lady Fox.

"What? Sorry?"

"You're such a dreamer, Guy!" She slapped his arm playfully.

"Sorry mother. What did you say?"

"Could you chaperone Millicent, because I'll be kept busy with the Granthams. And I have hopes for her and the heir to the Abbey."

"Matthew Crawley?" Guy doubted that connection would come about. According to Thomas, Matthew only had eyes for Mary Crawley, despite her engagement to Sir Richard Carlisle. "I don't want Millicent to be disappointed, mother."

"Nonsense. A beautiful young girl like Millicent is just right for Mr Crawley. We'll do our best to further her cause." She took her son's arm. "You might even meet a suitable young lady."

"Er- yes."

"Hurry up and get dressed, then come down and meet the visitors."


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm on a writing roll at the moment it seems. I might concentrate on this story for a while as its more Christmassy. But its all kicking off in this episode….!**

"You'll be sharing a room with Mr. Bates," Carson said coldly to Thomas as he followed the Foxes through the front door of Downton Abbey.

"What?"

"Your old room is full of the two footmen who now work here. In fact the whole house is full for Christmas." Carson's eyes gleamed unkindly, so Thomas shrugged.

"Makes no difference to me."

He wanted to go and complain to Guy but knew he had to take on the mantle of servant while he was here and not speak to those above stairs as much as he did at home.

"And we're short of valets, so you'll have to dress Sir Richard Carlisle, Lord Carmichael and Sir Frederick Newnham- Green."

"As well as Major Fox? Jesus-"

"No blasphemy, especially not at this time of year." Carson glided away.

Thomas muttered darkly to himself. No rest for the wicked.

He took his luggage to the room, pushing the door open with his shoulder.

"Ah, Mr. Barrow," said a soft Irish voice. "You can have the bed by the window." Mr. Bates stood looking at him with an identical expression to Carson's.

Thomas sighed. No sneaking out of the room at night to visit Guy then, unless Bates slept deeply. Maybe he should put whiskey in his bedtime hot milk to ensure he did. Smiling to himself, he speedily unpacked his things.

"I suppose I should congratulate you on your promotion to valet."

"Thanks."

"Any valeting tips or help you want, just ask."

"Thanks again." He didn't look at Bates, he was too annoyed.

####

"You'll hardly see me this holiday by the look of things," said Thomas later to the Major as he tied his gold silk cravat.

"What?"

"I've got to valet three other blokes too."

"Blokes?"

"I mean gentlemen."

"Well really! I'll end up dressing myself at this rate. It's just not on. I'll speak to Crawley."

"I thought I'd be valeting your two sons but they'll have to manage without me. Will you tell them?"

"Hmph. Looks like I'll have to, what?"

####

That evening passed in a blur. Thomas rushed from the Major to Sir Richard, Lord Carmichael and Sir Frederick, just managing to dress them all before dinner.

Escaping to the kitchen for a breather, he met Mr. Bates sitting by the table.

"This is too much, isn't it?" Bates looked as flustered as he. "I've got the Duke of Malmesbury, Lord Fotheringham and the Earl of Peplow, as well as Lord Grantham. We should get a pay rise."

Thomas smiled.

Miss O'Brien came hurrying in.

"What are you two doing sitting there? I wish I had time to sit around nattering. I've got the three girls as well as Lady Grantham now."

"Stay calm Miss O'Brien," soothed Bates. "If Thomas and I can manage without losing our heads, you can too."

Thomas laughed but turned it into a cough.

#####

Despite sharing a room, Thomas sneaked out that night anyway. He had indeed put whiskey in the senior valet's bedtime milk, so Bates was snoring like a carpenter sawing wood.

He crept towards Guy's bedroom and gave their secret knock, waiting nervously. What if Guy had been moved to another room?

"Where have you been?" asked Guy, opening the door at last. "I've been looking for you all day."

Thomas paused, trying not to shout.

"It's alright for you, lazing around," he hissed. "I have to valet three men as well as your father; I'm rushed off my feet. I have to share a room with Bates, everyone here hates me and I won't have time to enjoy Christmas like you will, I'll be lucky if I get any time to myself at all."

"Oh. Oh dear, that sounds terrible." Guy's sympathetic expression almost made Thomas feel guilty, but not quite. "Come in, sit down, take your shoes off." He led him to the armchair and pushed him gently down in it. Thomas had been all prepared to sulk but this kindness halted him in his tracks.

He unlaced his shoes and peeled off his socks, making a face.

"Sorry. My feet stink."

But Guy was already bringing a bowl of water from the sink and put it under his feet. He crouched down and poured some Narcisse Noir into it.

"What the hell's that?"

"My aunt Gloria left it when she came to visit once. I just like the smell." He rolled up Thomas's trouser legs to stop them getting wet.

"You're mad. That's a woman's perfume."

"It's stopped your feet smelling though. Stop moaning."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Are you sure you aren't a girl?"

"You know I'm not." Guy giggled. "Sorry, I'm still tipsy from the wine at dinner." He couldn't stop laughing. He massaged Thomas's feet, tickling them and he sat back in the chair, relaxing for the first time that day.

"I can't stay tonight."

"Why not?"

"I think Bates might notice if I sneak back in next morning. Anyway, god knows how early I'll have to get up to dress four men."

"Stay a little while." He ran his hand up the inside of the valet's leg towards his fly buttons.

"You've convinced me." Thomas smiled down at him, imagination working.

#####

The next morning, Bates awoke and saw Thomas sleeping in the bed across the room. It was amazing how innocent he looked when asleep: if only he was like that when awake.

He got out of bed and went out to the lavatory.

Thomas opened one eye, then the other and smiled. He sat up in bed, still wearing his uniform from last night: he'd only just made it back half an hour before. He'd jumped into bed without getting undressed, too worried about waking Bates up.

He took off his jacket and shoes, then as his room-mate returned, put them on again.

"You're a speedy dresser," remarked the Irishman and he nodded wisely.

"Here we go then. Another day, another mad rush," he remarked, and was secretly pleased to get a resigned smile from Bates in return.

#####

Sir Richard was first on his list, as he had specified the night before.

"I like to get up as early as I can, Mr. Barrow," he'd said. "The early bird catches the worm."

"Quite so, sir," Thomas had replied politely, inwardly cursing him.

That morning, he opened the green brocade curtains and the sun streamed in.

"Lovely morning, sir," he said. When there was no reply, he turned. Sir Richard was lying on his front, obviously deeply asleep.

Thomas gritted his teeth: he could have spent longer in his own bed! He clattered around spitefully, bashing hairbrushes and Brilliantine about, coughing more and more loudly.

But nothing woke Sir Richard.

"Sir!" called Thomas. He approached the sleeping figure and frowned: there was something familiar about his posture. He peered at him, pushed at his shoulder and his arm slipped off the edge of the bed, hanging limply.

"Sir? Sir!" Thomas shook him, patted his cheek. But he knew it was pointless: he'd seen enough dead bodies in the trenches to know one.

He turned the body over. Sir Richard's tongue flopped out, his eyes had rolled back in his head and his skin was pale as chalk.

Sir Richard Carlisle was dead- but why and how?


	4. Chapter 4

**The aftermath…**

The Downton party sat around the drawing room in various stages of shock. Thomas was the guest of honour, having found the body of Sir Richard, and had been interrogated by nearly everyone present.

"So, young man, what is your opinion of the situation?" Lady Violet fixed her gimlet eyes on the ex footman.

"Well, my lady, I had instructions to wake him early, but I couldn't."

"So you did nothing to make the situation worse?"

"With respect, how could I? He was already dead."

They glared at each other and Lady Violet looked away first.

"The police will ascertain the cause of death," she said, nose in the air. "Let's hope it was nothing you did."

"Come come, mother, it's very unfair to throw around accusations until we find out what happened," said Lord Grantham, signalling Thomas to move out of the firing line. So he went to stand near the window, as close to Guy as he could without looking suspicious.

Mary was sitting on the chaise longue with her mother, who was patting her hand, while Matthew watched her from behind the piano.

"It's such a shock," she quavered. "Last night he was perfectly well and now…" She gestured theatrically.

"Of course, dear. It's a shock to all of us."

The police inspector entered the room and addressed Lord Grantham.

"We will have to take the body away for further tests, my lord, but it appears to be an unlawful death."

Everyone gasped and Lord Grantham frowned, ushering the inspector outside into the hall.

Mary swooned in her chair and Matthew stepped forward, then back again.

"Quickly! Bring smelling salts! Edith!" ordered Lady Grantham.

"Oh, gracious!" Lady Violet sat down in a chair. "Are we living in the backstreets of London where murder is rife?" She fanned herself.

"Lady Violet, please!" said Matthew. "We don't know its murder."

"Mr. Barrow," said the inspector, hastening back into the room. "I'd like a word with you."

Thomas and Guy exchanged glances.

"I knew it," hissed Lady Violet to the nearest person, who happened to be Guy's older brother Alan. "That footman was always a bad sort."

There was stunned silence.

"On the contrary." Alan spoke up clearly. "He's been a godsend to our family since he arrived. A stalwart."

Lady Edith smiled fondly at Alan as Thomas was shepherded out by Inspector Jarvis.

"You may use the library," said Lord Grantham, leading the way.

#####

"So, Mr. Barrow. Please tell me what your movements of this morning were, as regards the deceased."

"I was instructed to wake him early so I went to do so, but he was already dead."

"What exactly happened, in detail?"

Thomas sighed, tired of repeating himself.

"I walked into the bedroom in a westerly direction, across the patterned rug that Lord Grantham brought back from his travels in India. I approached the green brocade curtains, and drew them back with a flourish." He was amused to see the inspector writing it all down word for word.

"I saw that Sir Richard was still asleep so I clattered his brushes and combs around a bit and coughed loudly to wake him up as he requested. I noticed that he was wearing his maroon silk pyjamas and his-"

"Alright Thomas! I think that's a bit too much detail," interrupted Lord Grantham, suppressing a smile.

"So, Mr. Barrow. You proceeded into Sir Richard Carlisle's bedroom and observed he seemed to be still asleep." The inspector hadn't noticed any amusement.

"Yes."

"What alerted you to the fact that Sir Richard Carlisle was dead?"

"I called him several times with no answer, then shook his shoulder and patted his face. If I'd done that normally he'd have punched my lights out."

"I see." The inspector stroked his beard. "Did you see anything unusual in the room?"

"No, sir. It all looked the same as the evening before."

"I have been told that you resented having to valet four men at this time. Were you so resentful that you wanted to get rid of one of them?"

Thomas paused, frowning.

"You're suggesting I bumped off Sir Richard to make my life easier?"

"Come come, inspector, that's rather extreme, surely," interjected Lord Grantham.

"I'm not a murderer! Yes, I've done things I'm not proud off but I've never killed anyone!" Thomas's voice rose.

The inspector raised an eyebrow.

"I have to investigate all avenues, Mr. Barrow. I'll be interviewing you again." He was escorted out by Lord Grantham, who'd noticed Thomas's hands were curled into fists.

Thomas stormed out of the house. So who'd been telling him he didn't like valeting four men? It must be Bates.

#####

As Thomas strode off into the woods, to make things worse drizzly rain began falling. He sheltered under a tree, muttering darkly to himself about Bates, the policeman and everyone at Downton Abbey.

After about ten minutes, running footsteps came up behind him and he turned to see Guy.

"They think I did it! They think I killed that man!"

"Of course you didn't. It's a case of 'give a dog a bad name and hang him', I'm afraid."

"Too right. Just cos I made enemies here at Downton, they think I'm a killer."

"Don't worry. They'll find what really happened and we'll be back home before Christmas."

"Hmph."

The rain fell harder, hammering noisily on the tree tops and dripping through the leaves onto their heads.

"What's that building?" shouted Guy, pointing.

"It's a folly. Come on." Thomas took his hand and they ran to the doorway. The grey stone structure was shaped like a bell, with round walls and a pointed roof, but the inside was divided into rooms.

"Who built this?" asked Guy, gazing round with his mouth open.

"Some ancestor of Lord Grantham."

"Marvellous architecture."

"Bit pointless if you ask me."

"Well, it's nice to be out of the rain."

"You're shivering."

"Warm me up then."

They hugged each other and kissed. There was a crash in another room.

"What was that?" said Guy, still holding Thomas.

"Dunno."

They looked at each other, then there were rapid footsteps. Mary and Matthew came running into the room hand in hand, both flushed and giggling, Matthew in his shirt sleeves. They stopped when they saw Guy and Thomas.

Mary gasped as the two men broke apart.

"What- what are you doing?" she exclaimed.

"Same as you by the look of it," retorted Thomas. "What we shouldn't be doing."

There was a pause as everyone eyed each other.

"There's no need to tell anyone else," said Matthew. "We won't give you away if you don't give us away."

Mary was still standing with her hand over her mouth.

"Sounds like a good deal to me." Thomas offered his hand and Matthew shook it.

#####

The quartet split in half. Guy and Mary walked in one direction, to give people the idea that she was showing him round the estate. Matthew and Thomas walked in the other, loudly discussing the war.

"War changed my opinion of everything," said Matthew. "Life's too short to worry about minor things, and Sir Richard's death accentuates that. We're alive for such a brief time, as long as we don't hurt others, we should do what makes us happy."

He glanced at Thomas.

"Thank you sir."

"I saw all sorts of terrible things in the trenches, far worse than men being- er- close friends. You know what I mean. You were there."

"I was."

"So let's never mention it again. If people found out Mary and I-" He shrugged.

"And in our case, if people found out we'd be put in prison."

"Quite so. Now, I hope you've recovered from the shock of seeing Sir Richard this morning. It must have been awful."


	5. Chapter 5

**The story continues…**

Mary and Guy were strolling around the estate.

"Spectacular architecture in our grounds, Mr. Fox," she said. "Our ancestor, Frederick Crawley, was a talented designer. You'll see so many examples of original follies in the area."

"Marvellous," said Guy.

She paused, then blurted:

"So, you really like Thomas? The way I like Matthew?"

"Yes, I do like him."

She clutched her throat.

"But he was always the most devious and unkind of our servants."

"I know he's devious, but he's got a side no one else seems to know."

"How so?"

"He manages Father better than anyone else; all mother wants to talk about is your family and their aristocratic ways so he discusses them with her; my brother Alan endlessly goes on about the war and Thomas is the only one who knows what he's talking about, and my sister Millicent is obsessed with Hollywood films. She and Thomas are always giggling about them, he does a marvellous RudolphValentino impression. It's hard for me to get a moment alone with him in fact."

Mary stared.

"But he's just a valet. He's not even the same class as you are."

"I don't care about that, Lady Mary! No one's ever bothered to give him a chance or even noticed his good qualities. If people just stopped judging him and had a conversation with him, they'd realise!"

Guy's face was red with emotion and Mary paused.

"Gracious. You do like him. I didn't know men could like each other in that way."

"And if anyone found out, we'd be put in prison."

"And if people found out about Matthew and me, people would jump to false conclusions and we'd be accused of murdering Richard."

"So we'll have to keep each other's secrets."

They stared at each other, reflectively.

"Anyway, if people see you and me walking around the grounds, they'll assume we have some sort of connection," said Mary.

"Perhaps you'd better take my arm. If I'm not too far beneath you in rank."

She had the grace to blush.

"Very well." She put her hand through his arm and they strolled back to the house.

#####

The quartet reached the Abbey at the same time.

"So, we are all agreed," said Matthew quietly. "Nothing of our morning activity is to be shared with others except the walking round the grounds."

The other three nodded.

"Here's Mr Carson," observed Thomas.

"Well, that was a pleasant walk," said Matthew loudly. "Thomas and I had a nice talk about the war."

"Yes, Mr Fox and I discussed architecture. He is exceedingly knowledgeable on the subject."

"Excuse me, Lady Mary," said Carson, puffing due to the speed he had approached them. "Your mother would like to see you."

"Thank you Carson." She smiled and strolled gracefully into the house.

"And Thomas, haven't you got work to do?"

Before the valet could reply, Guy stepped in.

"I realise that Thomas used to be under your command, Mr Carson, but these days, he's under mine. Thomas, you may take half an hour's rest before dressing the gentlemen for lunch." He turned his back on Carson and winked at Thomas.

Matthew laughed, and turned it into a cough.

#####

The police returned in the afternoon to investigate the death of Sir Richard further. They spent many hours in his bedroom. They removed the corpse, covering it with a large white cloth and taking it on a stretcher.

No one intended to watch, but they all did, standing in a line as Sir Richard was carried out.

"Frightful!" exclaimed Lady Violet, clutching at Mary, who stood next to her. "My dear, how you must feel." She eyed her granddaughter.

"Oh yes, Granny, I'm in turmoil."

Thomas stood nearby with Mrs Patmore. He glanced at Lady Mary.

"I can't bear it. He was not my favourite person, but he didn't deserve this." Lady Violet went to sit in the library.

"So, Thomas. What is your opinion of this?" asked Mary.

"It's a right to do and no mistake. I couldn't see a mark on him, to be honest."

"So he wasn't strangled?"

"I've no idea, my lady."

"So you know nothing?"

"I didn't kill him, if that's what you're asking!"

Everyone turned to stare.

"You're more likely to have done it than me, anyway," Thomas hissed to Mary.

"As you're all here," boomed the inspector. "I should tell you that we will be keeping a very close eye on all of you in future. This is a very suspicious death and you are all under investigation."

There was a sudden kerfuffle and Miss O'Brien fainted to the floor.

Fortunately, as Lady Violet was visiting, Molesley was there to catch the swooning lady's maid.

"Careful now, let her lie on the couch," he said, sweeping her up into his arms and placing her on there.

Lady Grantham fanned her with ostrich feathers.

"Oh dear, the poor girl. Such a shock to all of us," she said.

"Ahem!" interrupted the inspector. "As I was saying. We will be keeping a very close eye on you all, some more than others." He eyed Thomas coldly. The valet bristled, but luckily Lady Mary laid a calming hand on his arm. He shrugged it off, but didn't give in to his anger with the policeman and retort.

O'Brien mumbled something, it sounded like 'Mr. Bates,' so Lady Grantham beckoned him over.

"What is it, Miss O'Brien?" Bates wondered if it was something related to his valet and her lady's maid duties. A worry about clothes perhaps, or mending.

"Oh!" She awoke fully. "Nothing. Sorry, I was- er-"

He frowned, confused.


	6. Chapter 6

**The plot thickens… Thanks for all the reviews and comments, I feel very encouraged.**

A few days later, the police officers returned and gathered the family, guests and servants in the great hall.

"I am here to make an important announcement," said the inspector, pausing for effect. "Sir Richard Carlisle was murdered!"

"Gracious," gasped Lady Violet. "Who's next? Are we all to be slaughtered in our beds?" She glared at Thomas.

"I shall be speaking to you all in turn. Be very aware of that." Jarvis swept out, the long coat he wore for appearances' sake swishing the floor.

A constable stepped up to Thomas.

"If you'd accompany me sir." He laid his hand on the valet's arm but he shook it off.

"I'll come with you," said Guy. "As I'm his… employer."

#####

In the library, Inspector Jarvis stood with his back to the fire.

"So, Mr. Barrow. You were the first to find Sir Richard's body. Had he seemed ill the night before?"

"No. Same as ever."

"In what way?"

Thomas sighed.

"Full of himself. Awkward."

"You didn't like the gentleman?"

"No, but I wasn't the only one! They all-"

Guy coughed.

"Er- it wasn't my place to dislike him. I just think he wasn't popular."

"So, in your opinion there were many people who disliked him enough to kill him?"

"It's not for me to say, sir."

"Be very careful what you do say Barrow. Because at the moment you're our chief suspect." He stepped right up to Thomas. "Why did you kill him?"

"I didn't!" Thomas bristled. He could easily knock the older, thinner inspector to the floor. But he thought better of it.

"Have you an alibi? Could your room mate testify you were in your bed all night?"

Thomas bit his lip, knowing that Bates could not. Or would not.

"He does have an alibi," interrupted Guy, and they both turned to him.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Fox?"

"He does have an alibi for the night."

Fortunately the inspector stood behind Thomas so couldn't see his horrified face.

"It just depends on whether the person in question wants to be his alibi."

The inspector glared at Guy, his moustache drooping with annoyance. He'd wanted a quick arrest, but now disappointment loomed.

Guy glared back, screwing up his nose.

"Well. If you can produce the alibi, do so before evening." Jarvis turned to the constable standing by the door. "Fetch our next witness."

The constable made as if to escort Guy and Thomas out, but Guy held up his hand.

"We can find our own way thank you." He deliberately led Thomas on a different route to the great hall.

#####

As the constable returned to the hall, one of the assembled party trembled with secret knowledge of the murder.

Looking round at the others, the culprit hoped they wouldn't notice. But the motive had been unavoidable: Sir Richard had brought it on himself with his actions.

#####

"You're going to be my alibi?" asked Thomas as soon as he and Guy were out of earshot, sitting by the bay window.

"No. Sorry, I wish I could but I can't. We'd be jumping from the fireplace into the fire."

"What the hell are you on about then?"

"Aha. We just have to convince a lady."

"What?"

"Wait and see. You're not the only devious one around here."

Thomas laughed.

"Damn. You've even got me confused."

"You're very calm."

He shrugged. "S'pose I'm used to being suspected of everything."

"You did well not to lose your temper with that oaf questioning you."

"I'm used to being questioned by your father every day, remember. He's much ruder."

Guy leant forward and kissed him passionately, pushing him against the wall.

"What was that for?" He gasped after they'd finished.

"Just for being you. I'll prove you're innocent, don't worry. And I hardly ever get to see you these days."

"Never mind. Christmas'll be over soon enough and we can go home."

"True. We should get back to the hall before the inspector sends out a search party."

They stood up together.

"Your tie's all wonky now." Thomas smiled, straightening it.

"Guy!" bellowed a voice. "What are you doing with my valet?"

They turned to see the Major striding towards them.

"N-nothing father, I just-"

"If you want a valet to dress you, get your own. Come along Barrow, I want to wear my maroon jacket and gold cravat for dinner, are they clean?"

He propelled Thomas down the corridor, still talking about his wardrobe, and luckily didn't notice him grinning at Guy over his shoulder.

#####

"I need to talk to you," said Guy to Matthew as they smoked cigars on the balcony after the police had at last departed. "They think Thomas killed Carlisle. I know he didn't."

"Do you know who did then?"

"No. I meant, he was with me all night."

The heir to Downton Abbey raised a blond eyebrow.

"But you obviously can't give him an alibi. I see."

"Exactly. But Mary can."


	7. Chapter 7

**A whole lot of sabre rattling going on…**

"What!" exclaimed Matthew.

"It's only Mary who can give Thomas an alibi by saying he was with her that night."

Matthew glared at him.

"So. You want an aristocrat like Lady Mary Crawley to admit to sharing her bed with a footman to save him from being tried for murder?"

They paused, letting it sink in.

"Because he'll be hanged if found guilty," blurted Guy. "You know that."

"I'll ask her. But I doubt she'll agree."

"You'd better persuade her. Or who knows who might find out about your relationship with her?"

"Is that a threat?"

"Yes. I know about Mary and the Turkish gentleman, so it's not as if she has a reputation to protect."

Matthew gasped.

"H-how did you know?"

"I can't say. Sorry, but I'm not having Thomas hanged for something he didn't do."

They glared at each other, and Matthew glanced away first.

"Very well. but it's a shame it has to come to this."

He walked away, his mind working furiously.

#####

"Good gracious," said Lady Violet, reclining on the library couch while Molesley fanned her. "Is there no end to this inconvenience?"

The policemen had returned in force and were searching every inch of the Abbey, which had already taken days and would continue for many more.

Two constables hastened in and the inspector, who had been taking tea by the fire, was beckoned outside by them.

"Whatever is going on?" Lady Violet continued. "Molesley, walk past them with a tray and pretend you're taking something to someone, and tell me what they're saying."

Molesley's jaw dropped.

"But Lady Violet, I- what should I- oh-"

"I'll come with you." Thomas grabbed another tray and directed Molesley out of the door by the elbow.

#####

The policemen occupied Lord Grantham's study so Thomas and Molesley listened outside, Thomas holding the glass from his tray against the door.

"We shouldn't-" began Molesley, but his companion nudged him silent.

"Its the most deadly poison known to man and this is undoubtedly the bottle," said one of the policemen in the room.

"But why would Lady Cora have it in her dressing room?"

"That's what we need to find out. Unless it's some new beauty treatment for ladies, it seems we have found our murderer."

Footsteps approached the door so Thomas pushed Molesley in one direction while he strode off in the other. Luckily the wood panelling in the corridor was mahogany and no lights were on, so darkness hid their escape. Thomas knew the Abbey so well he was able to return to the library before the policemen.

#####

"My lady." Thomas walked straight up to Cora. "The police are going to-"

But he was too late as the inspector entered the library.

"Please come with me, Lady Grantham."

"I say, hold on!" interrupted her husband. "What is the meaning of this?"

"We need to question your wife, I'm afraid. Please follow me."

Cora's face was pale, her mouth open, but she obeyed.

"I insist on accompanying her, I am her husband!" exclaimed Lord Grantham. He didn't take no for an answer and followed. "Women get confused and need a man to correct them."

Mary and Edith gasped in outrage, and Alan Fox hastened to Edith's side.

"I don't need correcting," she snapped. "I am quite in command of my own emotions."

"Of course, I merely wanted to say I don't agree with your father."

"I should hope not," said Mary. "Confused indeed!"

"I think we need some fresh air. A turn round the garden, ladies?"

Matthew stepped up.

"May I accompany you?"

"Certainly, how kind," said Mary.

Matthew and Guy glared at each other. Guy nodded towards Mary, indicating he should speak to her now but Matthew shook his head and turned away.

"What are you doing?" asked Thomas, seeing this exchange.

"Nothing. Never mind."

Hearing a cough, Thomas turned to see Miss O'Brien sitting alone. He hadn't even spoken to her since returning to the Abbey, so perhaps now he should.

"Alright?" he asked, sitting down next to her. She turned to him, her face white as a snow.

"I- I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"But- but-" She dropped her voice to a whisper. "They are questioning Lady Cora."

"So? At least it's not you."

"You don't understand. They think she did it, when really it was-"

The library door opened and the inspector strode in, frowning.

"Miss O'Brien. Your presence is required."


	8. Chapter 8

**Deviousness….**

Thomas was annoyed to find himself taken to the study as well.

"What the hell's going on?" he whispered to O'Brien.

"No talking!" barked the inspector.

Cora was sitting with Lord Grantham, twisting her handkerchief in her shaking hands.

"Lady Grantham says you left this bottle in her dressing room," said the inspector to O'Brien.

"No! I- I-"

"But you are the only one with access to that room, apart from her ladyship."

"How do you know it wasn't her ladyship?" interrupted Thomas.

Cora gasped.

"Be quiet Thomas!" snapped O'Brien, trembling.

"My wife would never do such a thing!" boomed Lord Grantham.

"So, Miss O'Brien. Was it you or Lady Grantham?" The inspector towered over her, his expression grim and forbidding.

"I- er- I- it was me. Not her ladyship."

"And why did you do that?"

"I- er- needed it to poison the rats."

"Rats?" said the inspector, Thomas and Cora at the same time.

"In my dressing room?" added Cora.

O'Brien looked at her feet.

"I have a better idea. You obtained the poison, and your accomplice, Thomas Barrow, administered it!"

"Eh? Don't drag me into it!" retorted Thomas. "Nowt to do with me." He looked to O'Brien for support but she avoided his eyes.

"Constable! Handcuff them!"

"Hold on, you can't do this!" Thomas resisted. "I didn't do anything to the bloody man!"

O'Brien however, meekly submitted, while Cora clutched a handkerchief to her face.

"Just cos we're servants, we get the blame while those with money get away with it!" shouted Thomas, struggling with the constable.

"Silence!"

"What's your proof that I'm involved?"

The Granthams seemed about to speak, but they didn't.

Thomas and O'Brien were hustled out of the room and taken towards the hall.

#####

Everyone else watched, some puzzled, some smiling, some exclaiming in surprise.

"I didn't do it!" shouted Thomas, still wrestling with his captor. Just as the group reached the front door, Mary, Matthew, Alan and Edith hastened in, red in the face and out of breath.

"Stop!" commanded Mary. "You can't blame this man for killing Sir Richard!"

"Why not?" The inspector paused.

"Thomas was with me the night of Richard's death!"

Gasps of shock from the onlookers. Matthew and Guy exchanged glances.

"A footman!" gasped Lady Violet. "Whatever next!"

Mary's lip was trembling but she bit down on it.

"He stayed with me all night, so he can't have killed him."

Thomas hastily rearranged his surprised features into an affectionate glance at Mary.

"Are you sure, Lady Mary?" demanded the inspector.

Mary drew herself up to her full height.

"Of course. I may not be virtuous but at least I can recognize my suitors."

Thomas tried his hardest to suppress a laugh and sneaked a look at Guy, who was smiling, and Matthew, who was frowning.

"I told you so," he couldn't resist saying to the inspector.

"Thomas!" warned Mary so he went to stand by her, trying to gaze adoringly at her, but he was too affected by giggles of relief. Her frosty glare did subdue him a little however.

"It's all becoming clear now," said the inspector, stroking his beard. "Lady Mary wanted to murder Carlisle so she could continue with her affair with Barrow, and Miss O'Brien was their accomplice."

Everyone gasped. Matthew and Guy exchanged despairing glances.

"My daughter would never murder anyone!" shouted Lord Grantham.

"Mary would never reject a rich suitor for a footman!" cried Edith, clutching Alan's arm.

"It's all complete supposition!" exclaimed Lady Violet.

Miss O'Brien suddenly pulled away from the constable and ran for the door, despite her handcuffs. The constable chased after her but was intercepted by Molesley, getting in the way.

The onlookers shouted and gasped.

"You won't take her! She's innocent!" Molesley shouted, but the younger man pushed him aside and caught Miss O'Brien easily.

"Don't interfere with justice, sir," warned the inspector.

"Be strong, Sarah." Molesley pressed her hand and she smiled weakly.

"It's nothing to do with Thomas or Lady Mary," muttered O'Brien to the inspector. "I used the poison, but if it's anyone's fault it's that cripple's!" She pointed at Bates, whose jaw dropped.


	9. Chapter 9

**Decided to concentrate on this story for a while as its nearly finished. Writing two stories about Thomas at the same time is wearing me out…**

There was uproar at Miss O'Brien's words.

"Don't call him a cripple!" cried Mrs. Patmore.

"Miss O'Brien! How dare you!" roared Carson.

"He's nothing to do with your schemes, you evil woman!" screamed Anna.

"Bates would never stoop to your level!" boomed Lord Grantham.

During all this, Thomas suddenly noticed Branson next to him.

"To be sure, you old dog," he chortled. "I never woulda thought you had it in you."

"What?"

"Having it away with her ladyship."

Thomas nodded vaguely, still watching O'Brien's antics.

"I hope you're happy," said Matthew to Guy. "Ruining Mary's reputation for the sake of your lover."

"Wouldn't you do the same if it was the other way round?"

Matthew looked away.

Bates approached his accuser.

"Miss O'Brien, whatever can you mean? We've never seen eye to eye but why are you blaming this on me?"

She burst into tears and Molesley patted her arm.

"If it wasn't for you, I'd never have met-" she shouted at Bates. "It's all your fault I'm being blackmailed!"

"Blackmailed?" said Bates and Molesley together.

"We must continue this down at the station," interrupted the inspector. "Come along."

Miss O'Brien was hustled away.

#####

Later, Matthew, Mary, Guy and Thomas walked in the grounds.

"I can't thank you enough, Lady Mary," said Thomas.

"You'll have to pay her back somehow," said Matthew. "Her reputation's ruined thanks to you."

Thomas lowered his eyes.

"I'll find some way."

"Come on," said Guy, taking his hand. "It's dark, we can walk separately for a while." He led Thomas off in one direction, Mary and Matthew went in the other.

"You are devious," said Thomas admiringly. "Blackmail, lying… anything else you want to admit to?"

Guy shrugged. "Men like us have to be devious, don't we?"

"Yep. Hiding in dark corners and all that."

"Its not fair. We have to be secretive while everyone else can do what they like."

"Think it'll ever change?"

"I hope so, one day."

They walked in silence for a little while.

"So. You threatened to tell people about Mary and Matthew's relationship I take it?"

"Yes. Even they realized saving an innocent man from death was more important."

"Thank you." Thomas put his arms round him. "Do I have to pay you back too?"

"I'm sure I can think of some way." He laughed and they kissed. "Stay with me tonight?"

"Shall I pretend I'm off to see Lady Mary if Bates asks?"

"Might as well."

"Hopefully if I put whisky in his cocoa again he won't hear me sneaking about."

#####

Miss O'Brien sat biting her nails in the cell at the police station. It wasn't so bad in there, at least it got her away from the false celebrations of Christmas, with everyone pretending to like each other.

She'd never liked Christmas. It always just meant more work than usual. The aristocracy lazed around having everything done for them while she and the rest of the servants went into a flap trying to keep them happy. Well, for once, Lady Cora could manage Christmas without a lady's maid.

But O'Brien wasn't going to take her punishment alone. She would bring the true culprit to justice if it was the last thing she did. But she would do that when **she** decided to, no matter how much that pompous inspector questioned her. She'd keep him waiting.


	10. Chapter 10

**But who was it?**

As the inspector hadn't found out the identity of Miss O'Brien's accomplice, he'd made the Crawleys and their guests stay at Downton Abbey over Christmas, hoping one would slip up and reveal their guilt. This frustrated Thomas and Guy, Mary and Matthew, but delighted Edith as she could see Alan Fox every day.

"It seems my brother's taken a fancy to your former employer," said Guy as he sat with Thomas in the conservatory. The freezing weather prevented anyone going out, so other guests sat nearby, but Guy and Thomas had decided that a man conversing with his father's valet would not look suspicious in the circumstances.

"Doesn't look like we're going anywhere, so what shall we do about them?" Thomas seized on a chance to make mischief as he didn't have much else to do.

"I think we should encourage them. Alan's a boring old fart but Edith would distract him from talking about the war all the time."

"Yeah, I get sick of it."

"How can we encourage them?"

"Aha. I can think of so many ways." Thomas beamed.

#####

So Thomas and Guy amused themselves arranging for Alan and Edith to bump into each other by accident.

"We must stop meeting like this," said Alan the next day as he met Edith for the third time, little knowing that his younger brother was watching them through a spy glass from an attic bedroom.

"Oh, must we?" She tried not to frown.

"Perhaps not then." He grinned. "Would you like to come and admire the- er- roses?"

"Roses? In January?"

"Er- well, the beds where roses will be planted in due course." He blushed.

"Of course," she said quickly. "It's always useful to learn about gardening."

"I enjoy gardening, it's nice we have something in common."

"Yes. Very nice."

"After you, Lady Edith." He gestured for her to go first, giving a small bow.

"Oh thank you."

They set off, but were surprised to see Thomas appear from behind a bush.

"Whatever are you doing, Barrow?" asked Alan.

"Just wanted some fresh air. Too much hot air inside the Abbey."

"Yes," agreed Edith. "Especially with Lord Carmichael and Sir Frederick lecturing us on economics and the law."

"And my father spouting on and on about hunting and shooting," added Alan.

"Anyway, don't let me disturb you." Thomas glided away, grinning to himself. He looked up in the direction of Guy and gave a thumbs up. The spy glass glinted in the sun.

#####

The trial of O'Brien was held quickly, as Sir Richard's friends had great influence in the legal world.

All the staff and servants of Downton Abbey attended, as well as Mrs. Crawley, Lady Violet and Molesley. O'Brien stood in the dock, hair scraped back, wearing a plain prison gown.

"You are accused of poisoning Lord Richard Carlisle," said the judge. "You have pleaded guilty, so we must hear from the defence."

Mr. Grimes, QC, stood up.

"My client, an impoverished servant who has not had the benefit of education, does not have the intelligence to form such a plan."

Thomas caught O'Brien's eye but she looked away. He felt a bit sorry for her.

"Such people as Miss O'Brien are always at the mercy of the upper classes, and I put forward that she was blackmailed into performing such a shocking deed."

Gasps from the onlookers.

"Are they saying she didn't come up with the plan herself?" muttered Mrs. Patmore to Thomas.

"Looks that way." He didn't add that in his opinion, O'Brien was certainly clever enough to hatch a plan like that.

"Miss O'Brien." Grimes turned to her. "If this person had not threatened and bullied you into doing this, is it fair to say that you would never have done such a thing?"

"N- no my lord. It's not in my nature to kill."

Thomas bit his lip. How well had he known his so called friend?

"You're hypothesizing!" interrupted Mr. Crow, the prosecutor. "Inventing an accomplice to make your client seem blameless."

"Objection!" said Mr. Grimes.

"Sustained. Strike Mr. Crow's remark from the records," said the judge.

Grimes continued talking about Miss O'Brien's blameless character for a while, in such a way to make even Thomas raise his eyebrows. Then it was Crow's turn.

"I put forward that Miss O'Brien worked alone. Carlisle discovered a secret about her and it was he who was blackmailing her, not this fictitious accomplice. He'd discovered that she caused the loss of Lady Grantham's unborn child, by making her slip on the bath soap!"

O'Brien put her face in her hands, Lady Cora shrieked and Lord Grantham put his arm round her, glaring at the ladies maid.

"I know you didn't!" shouted Molesley. "You're not that sort of woman, Sarah!"

"I'm so sorry," wept O'Brien, "I didn't mean-"

"Order!" shouted the judge, banging the table with his gavel. "Order in court!"

After the room quietened at last, the judge addressed Grimes.

"Who is this person you imply pressured O'Brien into killing Sir Richard? It seems clear to me that she worked alone and there was no need for anyone else to be involved."

"But there is someone!" blurted O'Brien.

"Bring them in," ordered Grimes.

Two policemen left the court and returned with the accused. In walked Vera Bates.


	11. Chapter 11

**All is revealed**

"You stupid, selfish woman!" shouted Vera Bates at O'Brien. "If you d kept this secret, I d have got away with it!"

O' Brien stood up straight.

"And be hanged for something you made me do? I m not as stupid as you think!" "

"Order!" snapped the judge, but no one took any notice.

"Vera! We thought you were dead!" shouted Bates. "I only escaped hanging because I had an alibi!"

"Damn you, John! I wanted you to hang! And your perfect little wife to cry herself to death!"

"You evil woman!" shrieked Anna. "I hope they find you guilty!"

"You shan t be the cause of Sarah s death!" shouted Molesley, standing up.

"ORDER!" bellowed the judge. "Or I ll have you all arrested for contempt of court!"

Everyone simmered down, muttering.

"Sit down, Molesley," hissed Mrs. Crawley.

"Mrs. Bates?" asked Grimes. "Is it true you pressured Miss O Brien into administering the poison to Sir Richard?"

Vera nodded reluctantly.

"Speak up."

"Yes! And I don t regret it!" she shouted, the police either side being forced to restrain her.

"Why did you do so?"

"Because Carlisle tried to silence me about the Crawley family scandal! Oh yes." She glared at Lord Grantham. "Your perfect little daughter killing a Turk in her bed."

Everyone gasped.

"Then you ll be pleased to hear that I know the story. And I have forgiven her," said Robert calmly.

"Who? Who with a Turk?" whispered Mrs. Patmore to Thomas. "Did you know about this?"

He hesitated.

"Lady Mary. Yes."

"So she makes a habit of inviting men to her bed," said the cook disapprovingly.

"It's not what you think, Mrs. Patmore. He took advantage of her." This had only just occurred to Thomas. Mr. Pamuk forced him into showing him where Lady Mary's bedroom was, then forced her to succumb to his charms.

"Hmph. Well, you should know, seeing as you know Lady Mary in that way too," sniffed the cook.

Mrs. Bates had gone purple with rage.

"And- and O Brien caused the death of your unborn child!" she stuttered.

Lord Grantham nodded. "We have just become aware of this."

O' Brien burst into tears.

"I'm so sorry, Lady Cora, I- I thought you were going to dismiss me, I-"

"We will be dismissing you now, don t worry!" thundered Lord Grantham.

Thomas stood up. "But-"

Mrs. Patmore pulled him back down. "Talk to him later."

"Order!" shouted the judge, wiping his brow. "I will sum up."

Everyone made themselves comfortable.

"Mrs. Vera Bates, you blackmailed Miss Sarah O Brien into putting poison in Sir Richard Carlisle s evening whisky. You threatened to expose her behavior towards Lady Grantham, resulting in the loss of her unborn child."

O'Brien sobbed. Molesley, showing surprising agility for a man of his age, leapt out of the bench seat and sprang towards her.

"I know you d never do anything like that, you have a kind heart!" he said, before being pulled away by the police officers.

"What s going on?" whispered Daisy to Thomas.

"Looks like Molesley and O'Brien have been courting," he replied, exchanging surprised glances with her.

"The sneaky pair," said Mrs. Patmore. "Like you and Lady Mary."

"Er- yeah," said Thomas. He was tiring of his fake affair with Lady Mary and wished he could get home to the Foxes house.

"Mrs. Bates, I therefore hand your sentence over to the jury. Meanwhile, Miss Sarah O'Brien. You, under duress of blackmail, administered the most deadly poison to Sir Richard Carlisle's bedtime whisky, resulting in instant death of the gentleman. Poison supplied by Mrs. Bates, who thought up the plan and merely used you as a pawn. I hand your sentence over to the jury also. We will now have a recess."

#####

During the recess, Thomas found himself surrounded by Mary and Matthew.

"Of course, you realize if I stand within a mile of you, people will talk," she sighed.

"Never mind, my lady. It all seems to have worked out." "

"When all this is over, I shall ask your father for your hand in marriage," said Matthew, gazing adoringly at her. She blushed.

"I'm overcome with joy, truly, but perhaps here is not the place."

Everyone else was staring at the trio.

"Let's move away from here." Thomas guided the love struck couple round the corner into a quadrangle.

"How are we going to explain Thomas being in my room?" said Mary to Matthew. "No one will believe you don't mind I ve had two lovers before you."

"I'll make up some story, don t worry," he said gallantly.

"She could have been asking my advice about you and her," suggested Thomas. "Just picking my brains. Everyone knows I'm a devious bastard."

"Good idea." Matthew grinned. "I thought it would all end badly, but it looks like it won't."

#####

"I have the jury's verdict," said the judge when the trial resumed. "How do you find for Mrs. Bates?"

A loaded pause.

"We find her guilty," said the foreman of the jury.

"And Miss O Brien?"

"We find her guilty too."

Gasps from the Downton party. Thomas stood up again, but was again restrained by Mrs. Patmore.

"I will pronounce sentence. For procuring the death of Sir Richard Carlisle and blackmailing Miss O'Brien, Vera Bates shall be sentenced to hanging."

"It was all worth it!" shouted Vera, struggling in the restraining hands of the policemen. "Carlisle had to die! How dare he threaten me to keep quiet about Lady Mary and the Turk!" She foamed at the mouth with rage, thrashing about madly.

"Sarah O'Brien was acting under duress," continued the judge. "But she still killed a man, so therefore I will sentence her to life imprisonment."

O'Brien closed her eyes and tears ran down her cheeks.

Molesley stood up again.

"I'll always believe in your innocence, Sarah!" he shouted, but Mrs. Crawley and Lady Violet hushed him, amazed at his passionate speech.

#####

As they were taking O'Brien away, Thomas forced his way through the crowd towards her.

"I don't know what to say. You've half shocked me and half impressed me," he said.

"I'm not proud of myself, so don t make me feel worse."

He nodded. "So. You and Molesley eh?"

She blushed.

"Joseph has always been there. I used to think he was spineless and weak but he isn't. He's been my only friend since you left."

"Sorry. I'll come and see you in prison. Bring a cake with a file in it."

The two policemen glared at him.

"Only joking," he said hastily.

#####

"So, that's it," said Guy after Thomas had filled him in about the trial. "Blackmail, threats and bad behaviour won the day?"

"We fit right in then, don't we?"

"Thank god we re going home tomorrow. I've had enough drama. Back to normal soon."

"Normal? You and me? That'll be the day."

Guy looked round to make sure there was no one in sight, then pushed him back into an alcove and kissed him.

"More of that when we get home?" laughed the valet when they paused for breath.

"Oh yes. Now **your** tie isn't straight." He adjusted it, grinning.

Right on cue, a voice boomed: "Barrow? Where are you? I need you to pack my things, what? There's an early start tomorrow! No dallying about!"

They hugged each other, then Thomas stepped back.

"No rest for the wicked."

"Not when we get home, no." Guy winked.

Thomas laughed. "I look forward to it. See you later." He gave him a quick kiss and then hurried off to attend to the Major s suitcases.

THE END


End file.
